


gone for good

by girljustdied



Category: Veronica Mars (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-21
Updated: 2009-06-21
Packaged: 2019-10-04 20:16:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17311166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girljustdied/pseuds/girljustdied
Summary: veronica and logan cross paths at the homecoming dance.





	gone for good

**Author's Note:**

> missing scene from "the wrath of con."  
> prompt was "what happened at this year’s homecoming dance?"

Logan hates school dances. Always has—and has always found creative ways around them: parties at his own home, movie premieres, all-night limo rides. It’s easy when he has pretty much everything at his fingertips, no one telling him to act like a normal kid. Normal doesn’t make headlines.

But not this year, not this night. Homecoming and all its trappings, threads of memory stretching out behind and in front of him. He remembers a lot, a feeling of resentment deep down in his bones. Hell, he remembers things that haven’t even happened yet.

Can see it all: the crepe paper and the punch he or Dick will spike and the girls with hair too long and too brown asking him to dance. Shelly Pomroy attached to Duncan’s neck, bright lights, “This Love” blasting over the speakers.

He can’t make himself go in. It’s weak and it’s self-indulgent, but Logan Echolls has certainly never claimed to be anything else. Paces the parking lot with a bottle of vodka inside a paper bag, makes a game out of seeing how much he can drink and still pass tests of sobriety.

Z-Y-X-W-V—

Veronica’s tape really threw him, he’ll admit. He’s totally ready to admit it, if anyone would just fucking ask. He’d tell them about how hard it was to edit that video, so many memories of the first girl he’d ever managed to love. She’s in his blood, written on his skin in invisible ink. Lilly Kane.

Memories he didn’t even live: Lilly riding a pony with that red cowboy hat, Lilly belting out a show tune at a talent show, Lilly carefree and dancing to the Spice Girls with Veronica.

And memories he had tried to forget, to alter in his mind so that they didn’t include that other blonde with doe-eyes and a shy, do-gooder smile. Homecoming 365 days ago, maybe the best night of his life. Maybe the moment he’d choose to spend eternity in, if given the chance. Everything so perfect, all of them fitting together like puzzle pieces.

But now all the parts are twisted or gone for good, and there’s nothing he can do about it. Hell, he helped it along. Better to burn out than to fade away.

He tries walking in a straight line on a curb, hands at his sides. This is easy, this is fine—until one foot slips down onto the pavement and he crashes onto his side.

“Whoops!” an elbow is skinned and bleeding underneath his t-shit.

He figures he might as well stay down there; it’s a long way back up, after all. Twists around a bit and settles back on his butt with his hands propping him up. Stares up at the stars until they start to make him feel sick.

Closes his eyes and listens to the world around him instead. The slow, steady thrum of bass beats from the auditorium, cars on the interstate. He can almost hear Lilly’s laugher in his mind, then the sound of heels clicking on concrete—turns his head immediately at the approaching female only to catch Veronica Mars in the act of avoidance, eyes flicking away from him and body turning back towards the gym.

She’s wearing a little red dress, hair a mess of short curls. It’s a far cry from her body totally hidden by a curtain of hair and pink silk. He’s not even wearing a suit, just slacks and a green button-up. There’s no sand, no waves crashing, no champagne. No Kanes. No Kanes plural, ever again.

“Veronica,” he slurs out. Watches her still and her shoulders tense before turning to face him. “Truth or dare.”

The Veronica in the video from a year ago would choose “truth.” Always did, every time, was dependable like that. Just like how he and Lilly would always choose to be dared, or that Duncan changed his strategy according to who was doing the asking.

She smiles at the question, but doesn’t move to cross the ten feet of distance between them.

“Dare.”

He wants to break something. Clutches the bottle in his hands and imagines he had the strength to shatter it, glass everywhere.

“Take off that dress,” he says lowly, and her smile fades into something harder, more recent. “It doesn’t suit you.”

“You wish,” she snarks confidently, but flinches when he holds the vodka out towards her. It’s comforting.

“Then drink.”

She looks behind her once before striding forward and taking the bottle from his hand. Takes one quick swig, but he can tell she doesn’t swallow it. Doesn’t hand the bottle back.

“Truth or dare?” she plays along, looking up at the sky.

“Like you even have to ask,” he teases. Immediately wants to take it back.

“I dare you to not wear pants to the next school dance.”

He can’t help it, laughs sincerely for a few moments before sobering.

“What are you even doing here?” the question is out of his mouth before he can think about why he wants to know.

She sits down about a foot away from him and wraps her hands around her knees.

“I choose a dare,” she asserts.

“I dare you to tell me why you’re at a school function where everyone hates you,” feels great to say.

“I’m on a double date,” she answers simply, frowns after like she’s just realizing what that means.

“Trying to recreate something that’s long gone, Mars?” he taunts. Feels empty, lost at sea. What the is she doing trying to be Troy’s girl? That Wallace kid’s cute little BFF?

“Truth or dare, Logan?” Veronica replies instead.

“Dare,” he snaps.

“I dare you to act like a decent human being.”

“Not gonna happen,” he mutters, reaches out for the bottle.

She hands it over with an eye-roll, starts to stand until he moves closer and puts his free hand on her knee. They’re both very still for a long moment at the contact.

“Wait,” his voice is softer than he wants it to be. “Truth or dare?”

She exhales, purses her lips in exasperation. Knows what he wants from her, he can tell.

“Dare,” voice defiant.

“I dare you to kiss someone in this parking lot.”

Her eyes flit past his to try to take stock of the space around them, see if there’s anyone she can use to get out of it. Old Veronica would never do it, no matter how much Lilly teased and prodded or Duncan balked and acted as if he owned her.

But the parking lot is empty, and Veronica presses her mouth to his with determination.

It only lasts a second, just long enough for it to count, before she starts to pull away. He reaches forward and grabs at her hair on impulse, pulls her back and presses his tongue through her mouth parted in shock.

For a split-second, he thinks she’s gonna start kissing him back, admit that she was a fool for starting something new with those people—that it just wasn’t the same. Puts a hand where his neck meets his shoulder. But then her thumb digs hard into the pressure point there and he staggers back with a yelp; falls against a car and its alarm starts up, drills into his head while Veronica scrambles to stand.

She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand angrily and stalks back towards the gym without a word.

“What, no see ya later?” he calls after her retreating form. “Call me!”

He laughs mirthlessly at the swing of her hair and how she tugs her dress down as she walks. Uses the car to get up and stumble-steps towards his own vehicle.

Well, that wasn’t a part of his predicted memory of the night.

“I’ve never kissed Veronica Mars,” he mutters to himself, takes a long swig of vodka and hopes he can make her disappear. Moves to touch the tip of his nose and can’t do it on the first try.

He’s well on his way.  



End file.
